


It's All Casino's Fault!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:25:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: She looked at her image in the polished battle shield on the wall - leather and falcon feathers and metal weaponry aplenty - heaving a deep sigh of frustration mixed with resignation.  She LOVED her family; LOVED the Clan and all it represented; appreciated and respected its history, its traditions.  But sometimes, well . . .    She knew, when she sat down to think about this later, one thing would be perfectly clear.  "This is all Casino's fault!!!"





	It's All Casino's Fault!

This trip to Scotland was certainly more pleasant for the guys than the last; they'd made their reputation then, both during the training and their stay there at the Base as well as after, during that little "Walking Tour of Scotland in the Spring". Now, whether by experience or gossip by those who had experience, those on base knew playing poker with Garrison's crew was risky business, that playing darts against the Indian was pretty much a lost cause, and that making a play for the O'Donnell woman, the Dragon, was a one-way trip to the infirmary. It was also common knowledge that to fall afoul of any of them over such matters was pretty much your own fault and would end up with your taking on the whole lot; the infirmary had a diagnosis for it even, same one they used when one of the newcomers decided to mess with the reptilian population or go wading in the lochs or asking one of the locals "whatcha got on under that skirt, huh?" : 'cause of injury - excess stupidity'. Now that there was a solid basis for understanding, things went much more smoothly.

Siofra was delighted to see them, one and all, and the men were amused that the guys on the Base had gotten the message; there was no more of that 'Sophy' business, but a carefully pronounced 'Sheefra' when addressing the pert redheaded barmaid with the pretty smile. Well, that should have been expected, seeing as how Goniff and the others addressing her like that had gotten a much warmer welcome than that casual, offhand mispronounciation had ever gotten the rest of them. Even Carr Maddox, who now had somewhat of an 'understanding' with the pretty young woman, didn't lose his smile at the warm hugs and kisses she gave each of the visitors. 

They'd each acquired their share of bruises, as was expected in training of hand-to-hand techniques most used by guerilla fighters. And while hand-to-hand wasn't his forte, Goniff had caused his own share of bruises as he chivied them over the training walls and up the sides of buildings and proved to his satisfaction and theirs that climbing cliffs was also in his repertoire. Their desire to show the small man up was their incentive, along with their training goals, but found that wasn't going to happen.

"Casino's right; little bastard is part squirrel, part monkey!" Dillon Rees told the others in some righteous disgust as he adjusted his position once more, taking pressure off his backside where he'd landed after he toppled off that wall just as he reached the top.

The Englishman's slight of hand was beyond most of them to even begin to copy, though there were one or two he thought might have some potential.

"Set them up with someone decent to train them, might 'ave some use. Course, all that should be started early to really learn the touch, but they 'ave some natural ability. Never be as good as me, but then, could 'ardly expect that, now could we?" the latter with a smug look on his face that frequently inspired a strong desire in the listeners to wipe it off.

Meghada just gurgled at him warmly, "aye, laddie, we know. But we can't expect you to do ALL the fast finger work in this war, you know," getting laughter from around the table.

There had been no real requirement for her to come along on this training, but her cousin Logan made his lair in the mountains near the Base (not that anyone on the Base had any knowledge of that!), and had issued an invitation for her to come visit when some of the Clan was expected; the timing worked out well and she had agreed eagerly.

She had seen Logan rarely in the past few years, but it was he who had willingly accompanied her during that early search for her own lair, the search that ended up in that small trio of cottages in Brandonshire. She had a sincere fondness for the Hippogriff, and he for her, and the opportunity seemed too good to pass up.

The guys were due back in London, so she was going to have them drop her off at the foot of that mountain and she'd go back with one of the others of the family later. There had been no serious thought of them accompanying her; after all, they were expected elsewhere, they hadn't been invited, and Meghada wasn't sure which of the cousins would be waiting at the top of that mountain. Some of the Clan were a little, well, touchy about Outlanders, and though she knew and accepted and indeed loved Garrison and his guys, she wasn't going to precipitate what might be a difficult encounter in the middle of a war. In addition to all else, she didn't want Kevin Richards bitching and moaning in her ear for the next month if there were any injuries.

The Base Commander had been thrilled to see her, in any event, and was quick to make use of her for more advanced training, and also to have her sit in on some evaluations. He knew she seemed to have a knack for spotting talent, and also for spotting potential trouble; she'd saved his bacon her last visit with just that sort of insight, and he saw no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Don't think we have another Drake in the batch, but I'd be grateful if you'd maybe take a look?" and she'd agreed willingly. She hoped he didn't have another Drake around; that man had been a seething volcano ready to erupt, and to no one's benefit! Now he was back stateside, hopefully getting the help he needed. A transport pilot with a death wish was something that made even her shudder.

Their time at the training base was well-spent and they were well satisfied with the results, including that little bundle from the last poker game. Garrison was well pleased since there hadn't been any trouble this time, no fights, no yelling, everything remarkably peaceful, Base Commander well pleased with all of them as well. So he was in a remarkably sanguine frame of mind when they departed, headed off on that little side jaunt to drop off the cheerful redhead jammed in between Chief and Garrison in the front seat, listening to Casino bragging about how this little trip just proved how things COULD go right, didn't HAVE to end up with the shit flying. Garrison agreed with him, of course, but somehow that loud declaration made him uncomfortable, made him hope the Fates weren't listening too closely.

Casino and Actor filled the back seat, with Goniff riding rather uncomfortably between them. Goniff had petitioned for Meghada to ride next to him, but that would have left one of the bulkier men to fill the space between Chief and Garrison, and the Indian had frowned on that.

"Driving on this pissant excuse for a road in these mountains is hard enough without someone crowding my elbow," he'd frowned, and considering the roads and sheer drops off to the side of some of them, Garrison thought it a valid point.

The guys had gotten into a verbal contest of who could think up the most outrageous thing that could have happened to them, and Garrison saw that was making even Meghada look a little uneasy. Finally she urged them to drop it, "these mountains have ears, it's said. Don't go giving them any ideas, guys. I for one am most content to have a non-adventure for once. A non-adventure, mission accomplished, no one hurt, no one pissed at us, a nice quiet family get together, a leisurely drive back home - yes, I can handle that!"

Casino mocked her, "I think you're getting soft, kid. Next thing yer gonna want catered meals when they're planning to drop you outta a plane somewhere, and a featherbed to land on!"

She just growled at him, "I don't think it's getting soft to not want fireworks everytime we head out somewhere, Casino!"

"Yeah, yeah! You'd be bored stiff without those fireworks!"

The bickering went on til Garrison called a halt, pointing out a stag standing on an outcropping above them. For some reason, he had the uncomfortable feeling the animal was observing them with an uncanny amount of concentration. Meghada had started watching the terrain more carefully, then pointed out a small trail, not quite a road, off to the right.

"Pull in there and stop; the path isn't far. I'll walk up from here. You'll continue the way you were going for another five miles or so, Chief, then take the road to the left; that'll take you back on track, avoiding the Loch by a goodly bit, and still letting you stop by the distillery like you were wanting to do," and Chief pulled in and around a small grove of trees that, indeed, had been hiding a visible, if rough path upwards. They all got out and looked around.

"Up, you said. How far up?" Garrison asked as he craned his neck back to look up, up, up into the mists covering the view, the path itself disappearing about twenty feet away.

She grinned, "oh, a ways. Logan doesn't much care for unexpected company, you know, and this place does seem to discourage that."

Casino snorted, "yeah, can't see too many Fuller Brush men or JW preachers making that climb!" and the others had to agree. The small sign at the base of the cliff with the upwards pointing arrow cemented that thought.

"Free One-Way Trip to the Afterlife! One Final Exciting Adventure! No waiting! No admission charge! Save your family unnecessary funeral expenses; no burial plot required."

Actor raised his brows, "an interesting proposition, of course. Does he get many takers?"

A voice from the rocks answered, "surprisingly, not so very many. You'll be the first this year, in fact," and there was no hint of a smile on the face of the raven-haired man holding that gun. Meghada started to protest, but a quick sentence or two in what Garrison knew was Celtic stopped her.

The young woman sighed, "it appears this is a command performance, Lieutenant. I apologize; I should have had you let me out farther away." She spared the time for a quick glare at the man, now six men, facing them with guns at the ready.

"Are those guns really necessary, Cousin??"

"I don't know, Cousin; are they? Will they come along peacefully without them? They'll be protected according to Visitors' Truce, of course," all with a rather sly sardonic smile.

She frowned, "Guesting Rights I claim for them, not just Visitors' Truce; they are Friends, and more," and after a thoughtful pause, she received a more respectful nod.

"Aye, Guesting Rights they are given. Now, come along; we're expected above."

It was an uneasy group that made their way up that narrow path, even though Meghada had given them assurances of their safety, though had tempered those with some quick cautions and instructions.

"Don't brace anyone, do as you're asked, please. These are Family, but they can be tempery at times. I'll try to see you aren't delayed too much. Van will see that the jeep is put out of sight, safely waiting for your return."

Actor whispered to Garrison, "does she seem rather more nervous than you might expect for visiting family?"

Garrison sighed heavily, "yes, she does. Well, mixing her family and this crew could be a little chancy, I guess, if she's representative of the lot of them," getting a wry snort from the tall con man and a varied number of the same from the men following them with the guns.

"Yes, that would be one of the many words I might use, though not perhaps the most accurate or most descriptive," came from the one she'd indicated was Van. Goniff was at the young woman's side, watchful, quiet, not much like how the Englishman usually behaved except on a mission, but the rest of the guys could understand that; this wasn't much like their usual environment either. None of them were exactly acting like this was a quick trip to the pub either.

The last hard pull upwards, that last turn, through that sharp curve in the rocks so narrow they had to go in single file and inhaling deeply as they did so, that brought them to a sudden stop. There, spread out in front of them was a wide green meadow with a small stone castle at the far end. Chief stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the sight and uttering the first words he'd said in the entire trip up the side of the cliffs.

"It has a moat??? What, your cousin didn't think this place being in the middle of nowhere, up in the clouds, and the sign and the trip up the side of that mountain and that little gap we just slid through were enough to keep out company?" and that dry remark brought a giggle from the young woman.

"Well, Logan DOES like his privacy. Just watch your step going over the drawbridge and don't go trailing your hands in the water; last time I was up here he'd been talking about whether piranha could survive this far north!" and the others just gaped at her at her explanation "flesh-eating fish, you know, they swarm and can strip a cow to the bone in seconds, and a man in even less,", them not knowing whether to take that comment seriously or not. Well, she didn't know either; she'd thought Logan had been joking, but with the Hippogriff you could never be quite sure; he'd just been invaded by that bird-watching group and was still on edge from all the twittering and tweeting; funny, he didn't find all that at all annoying when it came from actual birds, but from people, well, that seemed to agitate his nerves somewhat.

They were met at the side of the drawbridge by an older woman who coolly nodded at them, and who just as coolly informed Meghada that, "you are dressed inappropriately, Meghada Ru Dragan, to come into the presence of the Grandmother; there are better choices inside depending on your intentions," motioning to the small hut behind her, and they all heard that most heart-felt groan from their companion.

"The Grandmother is here?? Oh, #&(@*#;%*@&;#*@)*#&;@(!."

The older woman, easily Clan since she looked like Meghada many years into the future, suppressed a knowing smirk, but not enough to keep the others from seeing part of what she was feeling. {"I know just how she feels! That has to be just a lovely surprise, especially bringing five Outlanders here with her."}

"Yes, well, I don't know that I'd express it in exactly that way, especially to her face, but yes; she arrived yesterday, and I assure you it was a surprise to us as well. You bring Outlanders with you, Ru Dragan?"

Meghada stiffened her spine, "I bring Friends with me, Cousin, although I was given little choice at the pass."

The other nodded, "you might want to take that into consideration when making your choice inside; you know the possibilities?"

Meghada sighed heavily, "yes, of course. Wait here, guys; I'll be right out. And Casino? No laughing or I'll make you pay, I swear it!" giving the safecracker a stern look, though he was bewildered more than a little by that threat. No one seemed inclined to start up a conversation, so they waited in silence.

Inside Meghada looked at the five woven baskets sitting on the floor against the wall and sighed deeply. Each held a set of clothing, a 'costume' if you will, complete with weaponry and adornments, each representing something different about just what she was claiming in relationship to the five men waiting outside for her.

Three were similar in design, simple tunic top and long skirt, but differing in color - blue, russet, green - top of each several shades lighter than the bottom. Blue - 'these are casually-met Visitors; I take no responsibility for them; they are on their own.' Russet - 'they are potential Friends; they are unaware of the rules; as a courtesy, please allow me the opportunity to intercede if they offer any offence.' Green - 'I offer bond for these, my Friends - any offence they give, I offer full ransom, full repayment.'

One was bleached natural linen, a loose surplice, the only one without adornment of any kind; if she showed up in that one, the men were as good as dead, as soon as the Clan caught a glimpse of the 'I am here under duress, used as a stalking horse to deceive you.' Not that she could imagine many circumstances that would cause that one to be needed; still, the Clan did tend to be thorough.

The middle one, well, that was the one that she looked at the longest; that one made the greatest claim, offered them the greatest protection; it was also the one she was cringing a little thinking about the expression on their faces when they saw her in it, certainly once they learned, as they undoubtedly would, the meaning behind it. Still, there was no other choice, not for her, and she groaned again as she looked at her image in that polished battle shield hung on the side wall instead of a mirror.

The men were starting to get restless when that little curtain on the small hut drew back and she stepped out. Their jaws dropped, and Goniff stopped breathing for a moment. {"Ruddy 'ell!!"}. The older woman suppressed a grin; yes, this had not been a welcome surprise, but Meghada ru Dragan, Meghada the Red Dragon was meeting the challenge head on.

Her hair was now in one long braid to one side, hanging to her waist, bound at the end with a bronze clasp from which dangled eagle feathers. The sleeveless tunic, made from a supple and finely worked dark brown leather was cut close to her body, reaching to mid-thigh, slit at the sides, and the front so deeply cut in a vee as to reach almost to the waist; the narrow laces that joined the widely cut front concealed very little though maintaining the barest minimum of modesty. That was worn over matching leather trousers, bound to her lower legs with narrow red leather straps that matched the wide leather armbands, complete with long leather tassels, that she wore on each upper arm right below the shoulder. That her feet were bare seemed almost appropriate, as did the weaponry strapped to her here and there.

Actor whispered to Garrison, "have you read the Frank Baum books, Craig?" and Garrison nodded, "yes, and I agree, Actor. We're not in Kansas anymore, are we?" but other than that didn't comment on the vision in front of them. Chief had a look of appreciation on his usually expressionless face, Casino couldn't seem to close his mouth. Goniff, he was staring too, but the look on his face was harder to make sense of. He was breathing again, at least, but he was pretty sure his heart was going to explode from as loud as it sounded from the inside. {"She's ruddy magnificent!"}.

Meghada looked at each of them, tilt of her head warning them to be cautious of their reaction. She'd saved Goniff for the last, genuinely apprehensive, but somehow, what she saw in his eyes, in his stance, reassured her, warmed her, and a slight smile came to her in spite of every attempt to restrain it.

Cleinda, the older woman, watched with an impassive expression all that interaction, wanting to snicker, but refraining. "Well, I always did say 'subtle' wasn't your strong suit, cousin; doubt anyone will misconstrue your intentions now," she admitted, as she waved the group on across the drawbridge and followed along behind. She wasn't going to miss this for the world!

The wide gates opened and they walked into a courtyard well populated with people laughing and conversing, children running here and there. As they drew the attention of the crowd, the noise tapered off then died completely, letting silence reign as all eyes took their measure.

Garrison looked around carefully, as he was wont to do in any situation, checking for danger points, exit points. A covered dais at the left held a half dozen people, some seated, some not, but the one in the center, in the tall chair, he would bet his last dollar that that was the Grandmother, leader of the Clan. He'd been told she was in her nineties, and that looked about right, but somehow he felt she could still slip a knife between someone's ribs with remarkable ease even now. A word, a jerk of the chin and they were directed to the front of the dais, where cold impassive eyes, brown-gold like Meghada's, looked them over carefully. Words were spoken, nothing he or the guys understood, reply given - more, some stern, some heated, some amused and perhaps challenging. In fact, just as he had that thought, the words came from behind him, this time in English.

"The Dragon brought Outlanders among us. I challenge her!" They turned to see the large man with the proud scowl on his face.

The old woman looked at him and nodded, the conversation now switching to English as well, "it is your right, Egan, to challenge, just as it is her right to accept or refuse your challenge."

She turned to Meghada, "well, girl, what say you? Do you accept his challenge, knowing what's at stake? Or do you deny the challenge and accept the outcome as I declare it?"

Meghada just looked annoyed, but resigned, casting a quick glance at Garrison and the team. "I accept, but I need to explain to my Friends . . ."

She was cut off with an upflung hand, "any explaining that needs to be done, I will see to, Meghada ru Dragan. Get you along now; your Challenger awaits." They could see Meghada didn't like that, from the worried look she gave them, but flashed them the hand signal for 'stand down; don't react'.

They watched as the young woman proceeded to the center of the green, unbelting her weapons and dropping them before she got to where she stood, waiting. Egan now stood facing her, knowing smirk on his face; he stood at least a foot taller than her, strong-shouldered and at ease with himself.

The men were directed to a stone circle off to one side, told "stay here; you're not to interfere, not to leave the circle." The question they threw at the woman who gave them those instructions, "what's happening?" got an incredulous look, "they fight, of course. He threw down battle challenge, she accepted."

"And if 'e wins?"

"By Tradition, if she survives, she's his, if he chooses to have her; of course, he has other options. Could just break her neck, or something like that, or maybe something else on the list. There's a lot on the list, lots of choices," got a fervent outraged argument, then from Garrison, "then, why did she agree?"

The woman shook her head at his slowness, "for you, of course. Non-Clan coming into the presence of the Grandmother? That has consequences, quite strong consequences, and the Grandmother is a bit testy at times, the more so the older she gets, though I'd as soon you not repeat that, if you don't mind. She's willing to risk herself to get you safe passage."

Garrison was livid now, "even though we were given no choice in the matter? Were brought here by gunpoint?"

They were shocked to see amusement on the woman's face, "that's a mere detail, hardly relevant to the reality of your presence, you know, at least as far as the Grandmother is concerned." She turned back to the spectacle in the center of the green, stating calmly, "I haven't seen her fight in a long time; this should be interesting."

Interesting wasn't the word they would have used, necessarily. Oh, seeing how she handled herself against an opponent so much bigger, one perhaps equally well-trained, you could call it interesting if you were being completely objective. The thing was, none of them could be completely objective; the small Englishman, in fact, was now pacing back and forth across the front of the circle, the others having to move back to keep from being stepped on.

They were all keeping a close eye on him, but obviously not close enough, because after the fight had gone on for what seemed a lifetime, when Meghada went down hard, seemingly stunned, and the other man let out a roar of triumph and started toward her, Goniff was out and gone like a flash. The guards prevented the other men from following after, and they watched, aghast as the small Englishman stooped and grabbed two of her knives from the pile of weaponry and placed himself between the fallen woman and the man looming over him. The snarl on that usually cheerful cheeky face was impressive, and somehow his stance showed a much more efficient knowledge of defense than anyone on the team could have expected. They were too far away to hear his words, but the shock, then amusement on the bigger man's face told them it hadn't been overly polite.

They were so focused on that tableau they didn't see when Meghada shook her head as if to clear it after that last blow, got to her feet and saw the standoff, though the Grandmother and the rest of the Clan did. Saw the shock, the growing acknowledgement and intense pride and perhaps more on her face, as she moved quietly forward and laid a gentle hand on Goniff's wrist.

"It's alright, laddie. Ease down. You've made your point," and though his head jerked at her touch and the sound of her voice, he protested, "ain't gonna let 'im . . ."

And a loud bark of laughter came from the large man, who gave Goniff a wide grin, and a hearty, "I concede; I withdraw my Challenge in your favor, ye wee coileach" and Goniff was as confused as anyone could have expected him to be. She thought to reassure him further but by then the guards were surrounding them, removing the weapons, herding them toward the dais. Garrison and the others were also moved in that direction, though off just a little to the side. 

"Granddaughter, you fight well. I salute you," came with an imperious nod from the old woman.

Then, a frown as she looked at Goniff, "and you, Outlander. You interferred in a Challenge, against our instructions and against hers; that was unexpected."

She looked at Egan, "did I hear you correctly? You withdrew your Challenge in his favor? That is rather unusual, Egan; be very certain of what you are doing here. You will not be allowed the Challenge again."

But Egan, though bowing his head respectfully, had a grin on his face. "Seems he's more intent on the matter than I am. Anyway, even if I'd won and taken my due, would probably just wake up with my throat slit one fine morning; maybe he'll have better luck there; seems he might." The guys looked at each other, puzzled, noting the utter confusion on Goniff's face and the pink flush on Meghada's.

The Grandmother motioned Goniff forward, and the guard behind him whispered in his ear, telling him what was required. Once the slender blond was directly in front of her chair on the dais, placing him a foot lower than her, the old woman looked at him intently, silently, then reached out one hand to touch the middle of his forehead briefly. She leaned forward to touch the hollow of his throat, then above his heart, holding her hand in place for a long drawn out moment, then touching her outstretched finger tips against his diaphram as if feeling him breathe. She sat back and a slow smile came to her face.

"Truly have I Seen you, fairly have I Judged you, Outlander. Worthy I have deemed you, welcome do I give you, Friend. You entered into Challenge on her behalf, thus claiming her as your own, and your opponent conceded to you and your claim. We cannot deny that, but would offer you an alternative. SHE had not yet conceded against Egan, so the outcome is still in question, since she could still deny YOUR claim. I offer you this now, before the question is put to her - The Red Dragon is dear to us; we are not eager to lose her to an Outlander, even one accepted as Friend."

The Grandmother made an imperious gesture and a small velvet draped tray was put into her hand, a tray that held a large sparkling ruby.

"This we offer in exchange for denying your Claim and letting another take up Challenge against her at another time. Take, examine it; you will find it quite real, well worth the trade of something not sitting firmly within your hand yet," sitting back in silence.

Goniff was now sure he'd lost his mind, perhaps had taken a bad fall back at camp and had been hallucinating the whole mad experience. He risked a glance at Garrison and the guys who looked as stunned as he felt, then over at Meghada. She wasn't looking stunned, he could see; she was tense, waiting, hardly breathing. He wished to hell he knew what she wanted him to do, what she was expecting from him; but since he didn't, he just went with what felt right.

He reached out his hand and picked up the sparkling gem, one of those sparkling objects that drew him so intensely, one of the things he found it impossible to resist, and the crowd became hushed, waiting. He looked at it with an expert eye, holding it up to the light so the glow shone clearly. Then with a wry smile he placed it back on the velvet base it had been presented on.

"It's a fine piece, well enough, but I prefer something with a little more fire at the 'eart, you know," and Actor almost choked. Even from as far away as they stood, that seemed an unfair comment on the magnificent jewel if it was real, and Goniff hadn't claimed it wasn't. "It's no match for dragon fire, not a fair exchange at all. No, I won't deny my Claim."

He dared a quick look at Meghada and relaxed a little when he saw what was in her face, that he'd done what she'd wanted him to do. He didn't know what this all meant, but at least she thought he'd done it right.

The Grandmother's lips twitched at all that, motioning the gem away with one hand, receiving in its place a tray containing two very lethal looking daggers, one of which she handed down to Meghada.

"For you to defend against his Claim, child."

The other she handed down to Goniff, "in asserting your Claim, boy," watching him with hooded eyes. He looked at the dagger, then at Meghada and she saw his intent clearly, saw his fingers start to loosen their grip. She stepped in quickly to forestall him from dropping the dagger to the ground, for that would have been an insult to her and to the Clan.

"I have no need to defend against his Claim; I concede willingly," handing the dagger over to him, so he now held one in each hand. He blinked rapidly, then turned and put them both back on that tray.

"Guess we won't be needing those," forcing his voice to stay casual, getting a loud bray of laughter from the old woman.

"No, I guess you won't."

And with that, the talk and laughter and running and merriment carried on as it had been when they entered the courtyard, leaving Garrison and his team feeling like they'd been caught up in a windtunnel.

Logan, now standing behind his cousin, whispered in her ear, "when did you have time to tell him what was going to happen, how he was to respond?", to be left gape-jawed at her quiet, proud answer of, "I didn't." And now a grin came to his face and he shook his head in wonder.

"Best introduce me to my guests, Meghada. Think I am going to like this batch," and she grinned in return.

"I certainly hope so, Logan. Friends and Family together; what could be better."

"And which is he, cousin? Have you decided yet? Or are you letting the Grandmother decide for you; best hurry, seems she has a liking for him herself," he teased, still surprised to get a glowing look from gold-brown eyes that seemed to glitter in the sunshine.

"Oh, yes, I've decided, Logan, without question, and that not so recently; Family he is, my laddie, Erdu willing. And the Grandmother needs to keep her fingers to herself!" turning to give the watching matriarch a warning glance. That got a knowing nod and a wicked grin from the old woman. Logan inhaled sharply, choked and was still trying to catch his breath when the others joined them. 

It was late into the night, only a few remaining at the long table drinking, conversing. Logan had found he truly DID like these men. He was surprised how long it took before someone brought up the subject he knew they had to be thinking about.

Actor finally couldn't resist any more, and over another glass of that truly excellent wine commented, "and if there had been a different outcome? Would Egan really have been allowed to take her against her will? Kill her, even? Would Goniff have permitted to leave with that ruby if he'd agreed to the exchange? It all seems very risky to me," surprised at the shout of laughter from their host.

"Actor, really, just how barbaric do you think we are? Meghada must have been behaving more . . . Well, what am I thinking? Of course, she has, just by being herself. In a family known for being not subtle, she really does take it to the extreme. A temper to equal the Grandmother's, I think, and a mind just as sharp and devious, with not many limits on what she'll dare for the right cause."

He reached out to pour himself another drink, now having the rapt attention of the whole team, Garrison and Goniff among them. Meghada was at the far end of the table, in attendance to the old woman who was reigning over all of this.

"You need to understand; if Meghada had shown up alone, she would have been escorted in, shown to a room and allowed to freshen up, change into clean clothes and then join the others, no drama, nothing like that. In fact, had the Grandmother not been here, there would have been no armed guards to insist on your presence; you would have gone on your way without ever seeing any of us. The whole thing, from the time she arrived with YOU, that was required by Tradition; she just chose what she thought would be best for all of you."

"Gentlemen, what you saw was, well, you might say a ritual reinactment of what would have happened many, many years ago if one of our own, an unmated female, had shown up in the presence of the Grandmother with male Outlanders in her tow. Meghada chose the specific scenario with the attire she selected at the hut; there were a good five or six she could have chosen from, each with a particular theme attached. This was perhaps the most fierce, but also the one which most clearly demonstrated you and your friends were not to be toyed with, were firmly under her wing. I'll admit, for her to have chosen anything else could have left you gentlemen with some challenges of your own, but still, it was a very bold choice. While the other choices would not have allowed for your deaths, except by accident, I don't doubt there would have been some damage all around. This prevented that, made you off-limits, kept the challenges on her plate. You throwing yourself into the mix, Goniff, that wasn't part of the ritual; as the Grandmother said, it was most unexpected."

They all thought that over, then Goniff opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again with a puzzled frown. It was Casino, as usual, to just lay it all out there.

"Ya mean, all that bit at the end, with the Claiming and ruby and the daggers, that was all just part of the reinactment? None of it was real?" Logan looked at Goniff, those rapidly blinking eyes and growing frown, and smiled just a bit.

"That part, well, the Grandmother was ad libbing from a different Tradition. Yes, she would have lived up to the bargain; given over the ruby, and yes, it is a very, very nice one, if Goniff had denied his Claim; after all, HE didn't know the history of it all, and that would have sent an important message to Meghada, one she would need to understand and accept, one clarifying just how much he did or didn't mean by his former actions, a message clarifying her relative importance to him. Meghada, now - her accepting the Claim, handing over her dagger; well, that wasn't her only other option - she could have wounded him, ceremoniously, just enough to draw one drop of blood, and that would have freed her from any Claim. But she didn't. So, how real was it? I imagine it was, IS, just as real as Goniff wants to make it; she's already declared, just by her actions, that the ball is in his court. I imagine she's rather on tenterhooks by now, waiting to see just how real you want it to be, Goniff," watching the play of emotion over that mobile face, seeing the acceptance and resolve growing there.

"G'night, mates. See you later," and their cheeky little pickpocket pushed away from the table, drained his glass of the remaining wine, and made his way toward the far end of the table. A few quick words, his hand on her shoulder, then her hand in his as he gently pulled her to her feet and led her away. The Grandmother looked on in amusement as the Clan's Red Dragon went meekly along with the Outlander who had Claimed her, in fact raised her wine glass in one final toast to their departing backs, and the old woman's laugh reached them all. It was only a few moments later when their laughter joined in.

Logan showed them upstairs to their suite. "At any other time I could offer you separate rooms, but as you could see, we are rather crowded at the moment. This might be best, anyway, keeping you together, letting you keep an eye on one another. I do suggest, indeed, insist that you don't leave your room til the morning. It's much safer that way. The Castle is quite old, and has a somewhat checkered history and reputation."

Garrison gave him a doubting look, hoping they weren't going to hear ghost stories; he was too tired to deal with anyone's nightmares, and while Goniff would have been the worst of the lot, Chief and Casino didn't trail him very much in that regard.

Casino just couldn't let that go, however, "what, Logan, ya got ghosts or something?" with a laugh, not seeing the sour look given him by his team mates.

"Not that, so much. Oh, there are one or two around, but nothing uncomfortable or threatening. There's a little kitchen maid who seems to have liked her job so much she still pops up ever so often, but she's a cheerful little sort, no problems unless you forget and hand her a loaded tray thinking she can grab hold; can cause quite the mess and upsets her dreadfully. And, of course, there's that pair that like to hang around on the battlements, using the kneelers and embrasures, never mind the corbels, for purposes that would put a blush to even the most licentious observer; amazingly flexible they are - makes you wonder if they were that way before they toppled over the edge all those years ago doing the same sort of thing." Actor gave him one of those long-suffering looks the team was quite used to, "so, if it's not ghosts, then what?"

Logan frowned just a bit, hesitated, then said, "well, the Castle seems to like to fulfill wishes, desires, but sometimes isn't as good at it, or as careful with how those wishes are fulfilled as one might hope. I think it MEANS well, but there is a basic lack of understanding of human capabilities and endurance and such; the original inhabitants were, well, not quite so limited, you understand. That can lead to some, well, unsettling results sometimes. I'd advise you ignore any odd whispers you might hear. Here we are; I think you'll find everything you need inside to be reasonably comfortable. Goodnight, gentlemen; I'll see you in the morning."

The four men entered the quite comfortable suite, washed up, and went to make good use of the bunks spread around the walls, too tired even to think over the rather remarkable events of the day. No one had tried to discuss what Logan had been rambling on about; perhaps the continued exposure to the Dragon had made them hesitant to discount certain things, and even more hesitant to deliberately invoke them.

If the Castle had tried to whisper to them in the night, well, no one said anything about it in the morning, though Casino had flushed when Garrison had jokingly asked the team about it. Chief thought it was a good thing Goniff hadn't rejoined them; the little Limey would never have let that go by without a good ribbing. He'd caught a glimpse of Casino's widely-varied reading material a time or two, before it had been spirited away under his mattress, and wondered if indeed the Castle had whispered to him in the night, wondered if Casino would have listened if it had. Wondered if Casino would listen if . . . And the others wondered at the unexpected flush on the usually stoic young man's face.

Late in the night, curled together under the warm covers, "so, from what the Grandmother was saying, what Logan was saying, all that, Egan then you ceding the Claim, that's w'at settled it? That means you're mine?" only to have his heart still at her reply, the shake of her head, "no, of course not; Logan was quite wrong about that."

He felt his heartbeat start again when she continued, "I was already yours, Goniff, have been perhaps from the very start. It getting stronger, richer, sweeter, yes, that keeps happening more and more, it seems. But this didn't cause it, just confirmed the reality in front of the Clan."

"As far as what this was? This, my dear, was one of those increasingly odd adventures, perhaps better termed mis-adventures, we seem to get caught up in since I've met you and the guys. You know, something that starts perfectly normal then takes a sharp right turn and goes far off into insanity-land. Personally, I blame it all on Casino and his longing for fireworks," and he roared.


End file.
